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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22922869">Drabble Babble</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoNamerGamer/pseuds/NoNamerGamer'>NoNamerGamer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hanzo Shimada has Prosthetic Legs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:07:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,427</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22922869</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoNamerGamer/pseuds/NoNamerGamer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I have SO MANY WIPS for these dudes. If i post them maybe someone will hype me up or give me inspiration to finish a few.. ;) Details for each will be in notes of chapters. They all have the intent of McHanzo.. some did not make it that far and are just Hanzo centric...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Injured Hanzo, McHanzo sap</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is one i put quiet some time into before i left it to rot in my docs so.. It could honestly be a one shot but I don’t wanna proof read 3k words at this hour</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hanzo had been set up on the third floor of an abandoned warehouse, broken windows allowing a good view of the exchange but also allowed the freezing wind to lash at his face, the building proving less overall cover than he initially thought. </p><p>His position had been compromised. He thought he had perfect placement, just out of sight and yet he’s still unsure how they managed to spot him as he’s making the split decision to jump out of one of the broken windows instead of taking his chances running though the warehouse. </p><p>His prosthetics had come in handy more times than he could count but there was little they could do against landing sideways. Seeing as he miss judged the trajectory on a metal storage crate and instead landed on a pile of old wooden pallets, his prosthetics couldn’t do much to ease his landing. The wood crumpled under his weight, time had eroded the stability they once might’ve held. The within the jagged pile of wood, a piece embedded itself in the calf his left leg, sliced through the thin fabric of his kyudo-gi and carved a gash in his side. Gritting his teeth while hoisting himself out of the splintery remains, he makes a quick scan of the perimeter, making sure to include a glance over his shoulder, he confirms that the coast is clear, for now. </p><p>Hanzo decides that the nearest cover, besides the comprised warehouse, was the old rusty cargo ship that looked like it was left to rot by the dock. He groans at the idea as he pulls away from the broken pallets, stumbling as the thin wire of his comm gets caught and pulled from him. He grimaces but decides to leave it, carelessly leaving a smear of blood on the storage unit close by due to his damaged prosthetic. He doesn’t risk glancing behind him once he’s moving, idly pondering if the cargo ship will be a better shelter against the frigid temperatures and before he lets his mind wonder more he forces himself to focus on how much pressure he puts on his injured leg and how he isn’t going to jostle the bleeding wound in his side as it throbs in time with his heart beat. </p><p>He slings stormbow over his shoulder and looks up at the haul of the boat. Paint is chipping and missing in spots, rust covering the majority of the visible metal, and there are no prominent foot holds the archer could use not to mention his out of commission leg. Breath coming in labored huffs, the cold making his face numb and the spread of red in the remaining fabric of his outfit has him trying to rethink his plan. He couldn’t climb the ship even if he was in peak condition, let alone as injured as he is. His eyes drift down in the haze of his frazzled thoughts and note the icy water below. His heart beat, like a roar in ears, keeps him grounded to time as he carefully lowers himself on the concrete bank. The shouts from a distance remind him of the enemies and how much of a failure this mission has turned into within less than ten minutes. </p><p>He keeps himself from making noise with a hand to mouth as he awkwardly shuffles under the bridge. Bow digging uncomfortably into his back as he rests in a not quite sitting nor laying position. He removes the hand from his mouth and draws in a few deep breaths through his nose before inspecting his side. Mercy was going to kill him. </p><p>Hanzo tried to pull any bits of wood from the wound but without steady hands or carefully tools he doesn’t accomplish much. Resigning himself to wait out the enemies, promising himself he’ll check the area in a few minutes as he pulls the sleeves of his kyudo-gi on. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, just the biting cold and the stomping boots on the dock above. </p><p>——</p><p>“Where is Agent Shimada’s last known location?”</p><p>“Let me just... Oh, it appears like it was just outside the warehouse he was perched in.”</p><p>“Shit.. Athena, contact Agent McCree.”<br/>
____</p><p>“He’s stabilizing, putting him under in 3.. 2.. 1.. Alright let’s get his top off so I can inspect the wound.”<br/>
____</p><p>Hanzo always hated waking up in the medical wing, the disconnected sterile feel of the room leaving an uneasy pit in his stomach. These occurrences have been few and far in between for the archer but nonetheless he’s still familiar with how it will go, the chiding-yet-worried tone from Mercy as she chews him out for not being more careful and the way his team mates will give a sympathetic smile in passing as he heals, except this time there’s another person beside him. The even breathing of another teammate to his right, dread builds in the back of his throat and his blood runs cold, had he let Jesse get hurt because his position was compromised?</p><p>He opens his eyes, squinting against the harsh lighting before they land on the slumbering form of the cowboy sleeping in a chair next to his bedside. Relief washes over him once he confirms his mistake didn’t lead to the injury of a co-worker he was fond of. The unnerving realization of his unfiltered thought startling him into a choke, dry throat unrelenting without moisture, making him cough. The ragged intake causing a pull on the stitches in his side making him wince before McCree is next to him, a grounding hand rubbing on his back while the other pushes a cup of water to his lips. After a few tentative sips he drains the cup and watches as Jesse leans over and places it where it must’ve sat before on the table beside the bed. </p><p>“S-“ Hanzo clears his throat, “Sorry for waking you.”</p><p>“I didn’t rightly mean ta dose off so don’t worry about it darlin’.”</p><p>It feels awkward to Hanzo, injured and ashamed, forced to sit next to the one he not only failed but pine for. </p><p>“Wouldja rather me tell ya about your injuries or debrief?”</p><p>Eyes focused on his hands in lap, not the radiating body heat McCree gives off— not how while he was sitting under the bridge bleeding out he yearned for said body heat, he grimaces at the choices. “Injuries.” his voice hardly above a whisper, McCree let’s out an amusing huff to his right, more than likely anticipating the answer. </p><p>“Large cut on yer side with some smaller cuts down yer arm and side, bruised ribs, luckily enough it was only your left leg that took the most damage, to which Torb’ n Angie are still discussing.”</p><p>Hanzo hums, noticing he still has dried blood under his nails from when he tried to pick wood out of his wound. “You are going to debrief me as well, correct?” </p><p>“That’s right Darlin’, so start at th’ beginning.”</p><p>Hanzo lets out a long sigh, ignoring the way is body aches in favor of dramatics. Begrudgingly he explains how he was compromise and the events that followed. McCree runs a hand through his hair once Hanzo’s done explaining, hat discarded on his lap. Moments pass in silence, McCree processing the story and committing it to memory for the file he’ll have to fill out later. </p><p>Once McCree realizes he should continue the conversation, should finally tell Hanzo how scared he was at the possibility of losing him, he doesn’t get a chance. The door to the hall opens and Angie walks through the doorway of the office into the treatment ward. </p><p>“Good to see you’re awake Agent Shimada,” She carries a holopad in her hand and she approaches before leveling McCree a small smile, “Jesse can you step out for a bit? I’d like the discuss the injuries and treatments with Hanzo.” </p><p>McCree nods and runs a hand through his hair as he gets up, the sudden urge to leave his hat with Hanzo just to have an excuse to come back and see him later floods his mind but he shakes his head and returns it to the top of head. He’ll have another chance, he tells himself as he walks across the room, he gives a tip of his hat before making his way towards his quarters, a shower was in order seeing as he’d spent the majority of the time since Hanzo had come out of operation next to said mans bed side.<br/>
____</p><p>Doctor Zeigler grudgingly let Hanzo return to his quarters, only because she’d caught him trying to climb out of the window once and didn’t want him to pull his stitches trying to scale the walls outside the medical wing. She’d been adamant that he didn’t do anything strenuous until she took the stitches out in a weeks time, she had been able to heal the deeper parts of the wound with nano tech but with the lack of funding and on top of the reoccurring injuries during missions, once the wound wasn’t fatal and didn’t have health risks they would let the wound heal organically. </p><p>She’d let him go back to his room but his leg was still out of commission and Torbjörn had also take the courtesy to do updates and repairs on both of his prosthetics, leaving him wheelchair bound because he alway  tenaciously refused to let them be repaired unless it was dire. So Hanzo wheels himself down the halls the of Overwatch, trying not to wallow in the self pity that welds up in his chest at the thought of how he must look. </p><p>He runs into Genji as he’s passing the open doorway of the Rec room, Genji insists on pushing Hanzo’s chair and he allows him on account of his stiff knuckles, not because he knew Genji had been worried about him, he always worried. </p><p>Genji doesn’t comment on his pitiful state, opting for lighter topics, how people around base have been and what was planned for dinner once they’re nearing Hanzo’s room, which leads to Genji asking if Hanzo will be joining them or if he wanted someone to bring him food. Hanzo frowns at both choices, while everyone would be happy to see him again, he still wasn’t ready to face them after his mission failure and he had a decent excuse so he asks Genji if he could have someone bring him food. Genji nods, promising someone will and leaves Hanzo outside of his room with a quick goodbye, he had an afternoon meditation with Zenyatta to catch.<br/>
____</p><p>Hanzo was not brooding. He simply couldn’t pull back the sliding blinds on his window to let light in and didn’t feel like using the the harsh LED lights, which led to him sitting in the dark. Definitely not wallowing in self pity and melancholy due to the flashbacks brought on by not having his prosthetics for the first time in many months. He will, resentfully, admit to being caught off guard by the knock on the door, which may have in turn have caused Hanzo to knock his wheel chair into his dresser, sufficiently knocking off a framed picture of Hanzo and Genji, it’d been taken by Hana, the two brothers overlooking the sunset on the cliff sides, taken shortly after they’d started to strengthen there bond.</p><p>Hanzo stares down at the framed photo for a few seconds, somberly wondering if his past self would have believed it if someone told him he would find himself wheelchair-bound and incapable of picking up a simple picture frame from the floor. He stifles the thought and decides it can stay there until he gets his prosthetics back before Athena’s voice comes through his rooms speaker. </p><p>“Good evening Agent Shimada, Agent Song is outside with dinner as per requested. Would you like me to let her in?”</p><p>Hanzo frowns at the word choice, so much for not being a bother, “Thank you Athena, you can let her in.”</p><p>He turns his chair towards the door as it lets out the tell tale hiss of decompressing to open, mulling over if he should have abandoned his chair in favor of his bed or the dinning table. </p><p>“Hey old man, were you sulking in here? It’s got that really depressing vibe you dig.” Hana says as she crosses the room and b-lines for the dinning table and sets two plates down. Hanzo simply raises an eyebrow at her and rolls himself over to the table. </p><p>“It is good to see you too Hana.”</p><p>It seems that was the wrong thing to say because she looks up from the food, eyes watering and lip wobbling as she rushes across the table and envelops him in a hug. A little surprised, he places his hands on her back and she stifles her cries against his shoulder. </p><p>“You know how worried I was? How worried Jesse and Genji were? Not to mention how we found you hiding in a pool of your own blood!” She pulls away, wiping away her tears and leveling him with a glare. “Don’t even pull something that dumb again, ok? We didn’t know what to think when Talon swarmed your location, not to mention the lost comm signal or smear of blood left behind.”</p><p>Hanzo flounders at the weight of her words, it hadn’t registered how badly the mission had gone, he merely thought he’d come out with a few scratches and failed to keep his partner safe. Not the fact he could’ve died—could’ve been captured by Talon, a fate worse than death. </p><p>“I apologize... at the time it seemed like a decent plan. I- I missed my jump and landed wrong which led to the injuries, it was a foolish mistake.”</p><p>Hana gives him a tender smile, he can still see the faint tear tracks on cheeks and he contemplates when he had grown so attached to everyone at WatchPoint and vise versa. “Now that I’m done threatening you,” She gives a shaky laugh, the same laugh he’s used towards himself countless times when his demons are haunting him, “Let’s eat, yeah?”<br/>
___</p><p>Dinner had been pleasant, Hana was always good company and kept him from relishing in his troubles. She mentioned how McCree had been absent from most activities whilst Hanzo had been in the medical wing, he’d dedicated himself to being at Hanzo’s bedside and Hana was surprised when Genji couldn’t find him to bring dinner. They’d hung out until the younger’s phone beeped and she unwillingly admitted that she’d promised her fans a stream tonight. Hanzo brushed it off and led her towards the door, it was common knowledge that she balanced the time with her fans and her comrades to the best of her abilities and it was admirable that she could keep up with the hectic schedules. After quick goodbyes and promise of dropping by again soon, she was on her way and Hanzo was once again alone in his bleak quarters. </p><p>He had always been a minimalist, sentimental objects were frowned upon by the clan, and he couldn’t afford them while on the run, now it was hard to be accustomed to having things for himself, hard fill the blank spaces with things others might see. He, of course in being friends with one Jesse McCree, had accumulated nicknacks from missions that the other had gotten, claiming how they reminded him of the once reserved archer. He also had gifts from other team mates, with friendship came gifts it seemed, and Hanzo was still uncertain in reciprocating. </p><p>Another knock at the door snapped him out his musing, perhaps Hana had forgotten something, he thinks as he presses the button to unlock the door. He raises his eyebrows in surprise, McCree is standing outside his room, hair sleep mused with a bottle of whisky in hand and a smile that rivals the stars. Hanzos breath gets caught in his throat at the sight, barely able to pass it off as a cough as he motions Jesse to come in. </p><p>“If ya keep coughing when ya see me I’m gonna start thinkin’ I take yer breath away, Honey.” McCree says with a playful grin as he crosses the threshold, eyes never glancing at Hanzo’s lack-there-of legs as he makes his way towards the built in kitchen. Hanzo wheels himself further into the room, he’d been to caught up in thought after Hana leaves the entry way and McCree was staying for drinks. With practiced ease the gunslinger retrieves two glasses from the cabinet just as Hanzo was lining his chair up with the bed. </p><p>“Need some help, Sugar?” </p><p>Hanzo shoots him glare as he approaches and with a bit of bite responds, “I am perfectly capable.” </p><p>It had been, admittedly, a long time since Hanzo had last done this and finds himself thankful of his training regimen as he shuffles towards the wall against the length side of the bed. McCree had busied himself with pouring the first round of drinks, knowing how Hanzo felt about being without his prosthetics and didn’t want to intruded on the display. He hands Hanzo one of the glasses, leaving the other on the table in favor of sitting and discarding his boots. Hanzo has yelled at him countless times for not bothering to take them off indoors, let alone climb in bed still wearing them.</p><p>Once the pair is situated, drinks in hand and the bottle resting between them, McCree breaks the silence. “Hana brought ya dinner, right? I would’ve but I’d been out like a light once I’d return ta my room.” </p><p>Hanzo swings back what’s in his glass and relishes the burn, it wasn’t his preferred by any means but he only drank it with Jesse. He reaches for the bottle and affirms that Hana had in fact brought food before pouring a bit more whisky in glass and setting the bottle back in place. There’s a lull in conversation, both men nursing their drinks as their minds run ramped with unspoken words. </p><p>McCree’s eyes drift over to the archer, a mostly healed scratch on the others cheekbone reminded him of the realization he had when the other’s position had been compromised. The utter panic when he was announced missing once his comm location had been lost. </p><p>Hanzo meets his eyes in the dimly lit room, only source of the light from the kitchen basking Hanzo in a captivating white light. Perhaps he was a bit bias, he always thought the other was stunning since he’d first laid eyes on him. The archer smiles over the rim of his glass, hazel meeting coffee before Jesse swings the rest of his drink back and shifts to face the other man. </p><p>“I’m sure Hana already yelled at ya for yer stunt, it wasn’t the safest or well thought out but ya did live, thanks to Hana who found ya, mind you.” </p><p>Hanzo frowns and goes to pour another cup but Jesse intercepts his hand and takes the bottle away. </p><p>“I’m cutting ya off, yer still injured. Anyhow, I.. realized when you were announce as missing—“ McCree stops, eyes refusing to meet Hanzo’s through the darkness, instead flitting around the room before landing on the fallen picture. He didn’t question it, instead barreled on, “I don’t want ta lose you, Hanzo.” </p><p>Jesse risks a glance back at Hanzo, his fingers lay limp around the glass in his lap and eyes sparking with unsaid hope. McCree’s own eyes water with the building emotions, he lets out a humorless laugh to fill the silence and brings a hand to wipe away the moisture.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Whispers, Hanzo mostly.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is the piece I rediscovered that i wanted to share cause I actually enjoyed it. Basically just Hanzo.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hanzo hadn’t had a moment of silence within the last decade. Around towns were the loudest, of course, he thought nothing of it but as time grew and he stayed further from towns in hopes of bliss of the quiet air he never seemed to escape the whispers. They spoke of everything and nothing all at once, he remembers his mother chiding him before bed, “If you ever find yourself isolated and still hear people talking, do not listen to them, my dear.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It had seen so out of place to a 12 year old and yet it’s one of the few things he remembers his mother telling him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His thoughts wander to sunny days, two boys playing in a garden with their mothers laughter in the air. It all comes to a grinding halt at the sound of insistent murmurs. His mouth goes drier as the nonsense sounds more and more like “murderer.” He swallows against the sand, against the lack of moister and fumbles for the flask at his hip. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sometimes, when he’s far too many drinks into to really think about it, the voices subside. Other times they rise and clash to an unbearable extent, forcing him to find a different outlet for his sorrows. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A weaker man could not have made it a decade with his guilt or burdens. Simpler men would lose to the whispers within mere days. Sometimes he wished he was a simpler man, a man who wasn’t raised in the household of a clan, a boy bound to a legacy. Burdened with duty, gifted with power, and mistakably, an older brother. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Stakeouts were the hardest part of his line of work, waiting around, forced to be idle with nothing but the voices in the ears. He much preferred the thrill of kills, the whoosh of an arrow being released followed by an unmistakably wet thunk. Always, always the voices come back. But for a second he cannot hear them, and it is enough. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s stopped outside of a bar by a man with a wild beard and even wilder eyes. A wide brim hat on his head leads Hanzo to believe he’s traveled too far south. “Jesse McCree.” The stranger introduces and Hanzo notices the strain in his smile. Intrigued and reckless, Hanzo allowed himself to be led into the bar, curious about the odd southern. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His accent cuts clear through the whispers, no mistaking it for one of their greedy games and Hanzo cannot find it in himself not to latch on to the metaphorical life boat and he sails into the drunken sea. It’s every bit foolish and yet after a few drinks the stranger straightens up. Gone is the air of casual laid-backness and the switch almost sobers him up. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The whisky eyes demand attention and they receive it. The crows feet scrunch and he drones on about...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Genji</span>
  <span class="s1">. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The whispers are louder than ever before, a crowded bar and a few drinks, Hanzo Shimada realizes his mistake. Murmurs of </span>
  <span class="s2">Genji</span>
  <span class="s1">, </span>
  <span class="s2">Please Stop</span>
  <span class="s1">, and </span>
  <span class="s2">Murderer</span>
  <span class="s1">swirl in his ears and he cannot find anything other than the disembodied words to hold onto. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rising above the chaos in his mind, paying no heed to the strangers concern, he leaves the bar. Without the crampons he keeps tucked in he bag he starts climbing the brick wall, digging his fingers into the uneven surface just like he wished to do to his eyes as he scales the building. At the top of the bar he sees the sky, and with it is the passing of adrenaline. Fatigued and sore he lays on the roof until the jumble of words pass and he hears spurs pacing in the alleyway below. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">——</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Oops they’re dads</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is like normal au, undercover mission with Hanzo and McCree shortly after recall happened and they find a child that is attached to McCree but Hanzo has to translate</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hanzo and McCree has been the main operatives for the throughly planned out mission. They were to set up in a safe house not far off from Watchpoint: Kyoto, surveillance and recon taking high priority with no orders to engage. The stakeout was a success, after a mere 3 weeks agents Lucio, D.Va and Tracer flew out to join them for the infiltration of the faculty. The near by town had been abandoned after the omnic crisis left it in ruins, forgotten to rot in silence. The Watchpoint was in pristine condition in comparison and since the Japanese equivalent of an army took over after Overwatch fell they were unsure what they would find inside. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tracer went to opposite side of the building, Hanzo stayed on the roof as lookout whilst Lucio, McCree and D.Va entered through the side entrance. Winston had made it clear that he only wanted to get the hard drives information and wipe them if they hadn’t been, incase Talon or anyone else wanted to get a hold of more information. It took around 15 minutes and with no signs of life they headed back towards the drop ship for take off. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Just before they left the building McCree asks to do a sweep of the living quarters, an odd feeling nagging at him. Hanzo refuses, the mission was over there was no need, but Tracer agreed that it wouldn’t hurt. They sacrificed five minutes for searching and the feeling in the cowboys gut hadn’t left. The kitchen had been cleared of its rations and the living area seemed less dusty than the rest of the place, Lucio agreed that it was odd. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Just as the team had started to round back towards the side door they came in did Jesse spot it. In a room he passed, under one of the furnishings was a mass covered by a moth eaten blanket. A pit forms in his stomach, worst case scenarios running through his head as he approaches it. As he gets closer he sees a head of dark hair and then two frightened brown eyes stare at him from under the sheet. Immediately he crouched down, putting his hands palm side up to be seen less like a threat. He tries to get the child to talk, their face is smudged with dirt and their hair is knotted in multiple spots. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The child’s comes out from under the table, almost shaking under the sheet and shakes his head. Hanzo eventually comes to their aid, a Japanese native knowing the language to translate. He stops at the doorway when he spots the child, no older than 12. McCree motions him closer, asking him to ask the boy how long he had been there. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Few months.” the boy speaks with a scratchy throat, most likely from lack of use. The click of Hanzo’s metal knee plates against the ground draws the boys eyes and he asks curiously. Hanzo brushes it off, asking the boys name instead. “Toro.” is all he says. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s enough for the group, McCree shucks off his tan serape and holds it out to Toro. “Instead of the sheet.” Hanzo translates and with a small smile from McCree the boy takes it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The transport ride is awkward, explaining to Winston how they found a child in the old watchpoint went better than expected. The boy had grown attached to the cowboy, playing with his hat to pass the time. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Injured Hanzo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Need I say more?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This was a phenomenally bad situation. If Hanzo were to rank it on his list of 'Bad Situations' it would be under 'Killing Genji' but before 'Father's reaction to Genji dyeing his hair green'. In retrospect it wasn't that long of a list. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But this specific situation has Hanzo leaned against a bloody wall, shoulders quaking as he is wracked with a coughing fit. His hands are covering his mouth, looking as if he was trying to asphyxiate himself. With each passing spasm in his chest the dark patch on his right side, just below the ribs, grows in size. Hanzo removes his hands from his face, lungs burning due to suppressing upcoming coughs in addition to the lack of air from said coughing fits. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With the tremors come sparks of pain, each passing breath feels constricted and shallow. The hand that had been on his mouth comes away wet and a glance confirms that there are speckles of blood. His chest heaves as he tries to regain his breath, torn between the physical pain it causes to intake deeper breaths or the light-headed-ness that comes with lack of oxygen. His shuddering breaths seem deafening throughout the dank corridor he had found himself residing in.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The never ending pain in his side from his wound fares and he glances down to look at the torn fabric of his kyudo-gi, a familiar arrow stem peaking through the hole. Without moving he can see the wound surrounding it, raw and red, outer edges uneven and dripping a constant trickle of blood. A shiver wracks his body and he watches long enough to see the wound let out a thicker trail of blood in result, hands clammy as he tries to clench them to test his strength.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He feels naked, stormbow lost in his fall and meters away. His comm lays in pieces off to his right side and if he were to stretch he might be able to reach the biggest piece but in it's scattered state he would just be his wasting energy.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caught off guard by a rush in his throat and with no intent of trying to hold it down he lets out a wet cough, hand barley coming up in time to save the unbloodied parts of his outfit. As he stares down at his bloody palm, mouth coated in the substance, he notices his vision is hazy around the edges and wonders if he's going to die here.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Here in a desolated Talon base, after countless months with Overwatch. Months him and his brother spent trying to reform the bond they once shared. Months it took to gain everyones trust, to stop being the outsider who killed his brother. All of it, washed away just because of a botched scouting. Hanzo suppresses the urge to laugh hysterically, his whole life has been a fucking mess.  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With what Hanzo presumes are his last moments he lets his thoughts drift. Memories of two brothers without a care in the world, their strict and dutiful father, the absence of a mother. The audacity the elders had with such twisted orders, the depressing truth that he'd fallen through with it and hasn't touched a sword since. A blur of a decade spent dedicated to mourning the one he took away from himself. The night an assassin attempted to kill him whist he was making an offering on the anniversary of his brothers death, only for the masked stranger to reveal himself as the fallen brother. The crushing reality that he'd spent so long mourning was all for nothing. The cruel stares of a mix-and-matched group he received when he showed up to Overwatch at his brothers request. The rekindling of the rocky relationship with his now cyborg brother and cowboy who had look past his past. A cowboy he'd shared far too many drinks with over countless nights. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanzo snaps back to present, drowsy and weak, to the sound of multiple footsteps approaching rapidly. His hands, slick with sweat and blood, hardly able to make a fist. He wasn't in any condition fight his would be attackers off. His breathing picks up, every inhale reminding him of the fatal wound in his side as he musters enough energy to drag his unfocused gaze towards the mouth of the corridor. He can't tell if it's his pounding heartbeat in his ears or the footsteps of the silhouettes, watching with little else to do as they hurriedly approach. His vision swims but he can make out the serape clad figure before he slips into darkness.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>+=+=+=+=+=+  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first thing Hanzo notices when he wakes up is that his mouth no longer tastes like blood. The second is the muted pain of his body and he almost groans at the thought of bed rest, he can tell he has sticky pads stuck to his chest just by breathing. Not that the deafening heart rate monitor gave it away.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There's someone sitting to the right of his bed, the even breaths are the only noise besides the constant beeping of his heart. He can tell the lights in the room are on, or perhaps its sunlight from a window. His arm twitches and he can feel that the other person has a grip on his hand, along with a unpleasant stab of the IV needle.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Hanzo Intro</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is just Hanzo coming into Overwatch, a fun take I had.. He’s got prosthetic legs in this one.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Genji confronted Hanzo in Hanamura it was as if the world was crumbling beneath him. Ten years of living in self exile; Ten years of grieving, running from assassins and drinking and then the ghost of his brother shows up and sobers him up, ranting and raving about how it’s time to pick a side. It was foolish. And yet...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the first real choice he could make outside of the clan since... all his skills can finally be put to good use, for a better purpose than the sad sulking hermit he’d transformed into.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>——</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The base of operations is in Spain, we can uh.. send an agent to retrieve you once you cross the border.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I understand, I will contact you when I am in Spain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Hanzo?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Dr. Winston?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can just call me Winston and uhm.. Thanks for uh, joining us, I mean, not—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Spain is quiet a distance to travel to, I must be going, thank you for your time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as Hanzo crosses into Spain he received coordinates to a private airstrip that could take him the rest of the way to Watchpoint. The only thing keeping him from the airstrip was the Cantabrian Mountains. Three months of travel behind him and only a few more days to go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arrogance might have been his downfall ever since the beginning. Thinking Genji could change, thinking the clan could change, thinking anything could come from following orders blindly, thinking he could climb a mountain. The locals had warned him, precautions should be had when facing those mountains, and yet with redemption so close he didnt pay them heed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course he was unlucky, of course it was in the last few miles of his walk down the mountain that there happened to be an impromptu landslide. One second he’s been watching the coarse grass underfoot and the next he was swept up in rocks and debris. Once he reached a stop, head spinning and minor cuts littering his arms he heaved what little rations he’d eaten that morning out. The second thing he did was take inventory of his gear. He lost the majority of his arrows, the string on his bow snapped in the tumble but the boy was fine. Luckily, the communicator left behind in Hanamura for him was still working. Unluckily, his left prosthetic had been crushed in the process and his right one was sparking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gritting his teeth he managed to ring headquarters again, only it wasn’t winston who picked up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Howdy, Shimada-san, big guys out, most people are out actually, ‘cept Lena and me. What can I do ya for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo has been in shocked silence, perhaps he hit his head harder in the tumble than he thought. He cleared his throat and hesitantly replied, “I was in my way to the private airstrip and got caught in a bit of a— Landslide?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a low whistle in response followed by, “Any major injuries, darlin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No but my prosthetics are damaged.” Hanzo’s hand strays to his hair and he finds a stray branch caught in the knots, hair tie lost in his fall and silence settling over the line. The cowboy lets out a curse before, “Alright, can you activate the beacon on your comm? We should be able to touch down in a little over an hour so jus hang tight.”  And the line went dead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Resisting the urge to throw the device, he double presses on the button, it had come with a preloaded message on how to do so, and watches as it flashes orange and then goes back to being unlit. With a sigh he started going through his belongings, looking for a spare string so he wasn’t a complete sitting duck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s over here! Go back to ship n get ready ta go!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo stirs at the voice in the distance, hands tightening his grip on his bow as he watches the figure approach. He squints when a flashlight blinds him, the crunch of gravel underfoot lets him keep track of the other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey there, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo squints at the other in the dark, eyes barley adjusting enough to make out the dark haired in the others serape.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I’m gonna lift you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>_______</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>When Hanzo finally managed to arrive at Watchpoint: Gilbralter a few things stood out to him. Firstly being that it was quite a large base along the cliff side. Secondly was that his brother had failed to mention how many people had already answered the recall, he’d expected a good handful but it seems many arrived during his travels. Thirdly, the last notable thing before he stopped keeping track, was of the melting pot of members that lived there. </span>
  <span>
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  <span>Genji had met up with him once he arrive in Spain, accompanying him across the wilderness to the southern edge where the base was located. It has been nice, Genji was much quieter than when they used to travel on business trips with their father but he was familiar with the layout of the country in ways Hanzo couldn’t grasp. The trip on foot was only ten days, without any rests that is, and seemed as if the could make it there within two weeks if they got a few rides and minimal rest but after the trek through the Cantabrian Mountains, Hanzo’s prosthetics where damaged in an impromptu landslide, Genji called a friend on base to retrieve them. Hanzo has sulked for the first few hours, why couldn’t his brother have called for pick-up before his legs were out of commission? </span>
  <span>
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  </span>
  <span>
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  </span>
  <span>Upon arrival at the base, Genji had mentioned a few minutes before landing that they had engineers that can fix his prosthetics as he pulled a wheelchair from one of the compartments along the wall that had a put a sour taste in his mouth. “These, engineers, are trustworthy?” </span>
  <span>
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  </span>
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  <span>Genji has just stared at him dead on, visor in place, but Hanzo could still feel the deadpan look he was receiving. With uncomfortable tightness in his throat he nodded and started removing his prosthetics. Genji quickly took them, relieving Hanzo of the heavy weight. The chair had been pushed closer to the seats and Genji polity turned his head as Hanzo struggled to orient himself in the wheelchair. </span>
  <span>
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  <span>The bubbly brit who had flown them back to base had finished all the aircraft shut down protocols just as the brothers were getting really to descend the ramp. She left with a quick, “Thanks for flying Tracer Airline, loves.” and a flash of blue. </span>
  <span>
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  </span>
  <span>
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  </span>
  <span>“Would you like me to push you, aniki?” Genji asked after a few beats of silence, carbon fiber calves still in hand. Hanzo glances down at his cut up hands, minor abrasions adorning the insider palm has him considering the option. Genji didn’t wait for a reply after seeing the state of his brothers hands, no doubt cut up from all the rocks on the mountain, and placed the prosthetics across the other’s thighs and unlocking the wheels before they duo went on their way.</span>
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  <span>The pavement road was smooth under the wheelchair, not reason for Hanzo to be gripping the arm rest as tightly as he did, his other hand resting across his extremities to keep them from falling. They didn’t encounter anyone until they got through the side doors, closer to the workshop Genji said. Standing in the hallway was a stout, blond man cursing to himself in Swedish. One of his hands was a red claw, a matching red to his eyepatch that Hanzo only noticed after the man was looking at him. </span>
  <span>
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  </span>
  <span>
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  <span>“Ah! You must be Hanzo, Genji pinged us a bit ago about your legs, a shame ain’t it? Lucky for ya I already have the equipment needed for suck repairs. Well, let’s not stand in the hallways all day get in here.”</span>
  <span>
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  <span>Hanzo raised his eyebrows at the man but Genji just pushed them through the doorway. The workshop was messy, bits of metal laying about but what caught his attention was the two other people in the room. Hanzo’s hands turned clammy under the gaze of the other occupants but Genji just keep wheeling them along. The swedish man keeps talking, eventually taking the prosthetics from Hanzo’s lap with inquires. </span>
  <span>
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  </span>
  <span>
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  </span>
  <span>“Where did you get these from? How long have you had these specific ones? Are your ports up to date? Do they include nerves? Do you know what materials—“ </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
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  </span>
  <span>“Papi don’t ask him so many questions!” The muscular girl calls to him, walking over with the shield she’d been working on. She turns her attention to Hanzo and smiles, there’s grease smeared across her forehead, “Hi, I’m Brigitte, sorry about my father he just really likes new projects.” She has freckles across the bridge of her nose, her red hair pulled into a pony tail. </span>
  <span>
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  <span>“Pah!” The man from before says at his daughters words, “They were all good questions.” </span>
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  <span>Loud laughter comes from the other side of the room and has Hanzo jerking his attention towards the source. A large man sits next to an even bigger shield, large armor strewn around the floor near him. “Torbjörn is always like this! Pay him no heed friends!” </span>
  <span>
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  <span>Hanzo grimaces after the loud mans statement, metallic laughter from behind him</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. My hot take on Hanzo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This one is rant style cause I got angry someone in game didn’t give Hanzo credit that he had room for good backstory so! This is that. 👉👈</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The tragic tale that is hanzo shimada is so sorrowful. A boy born into a yakuza clan, raised under warlords. We have to assume that there wasn’t too much sheltering for him, not many kid friendly things. Just a younger brother. They were both put through training and whilst Genji probably had a looser lead he was definitely put through his paces as much as Hanzo was. Hanzo who probably grew up too fast so he could take over the clan when his father died. Hanzo who had to endure his aunts and uncles discussing crime activities. Hanzo who killed his little brother and never picked up a sword again, even though he’d been trained his whole life to perfect the art of it. Genji definitely wasn’t innocent. Not that there much to go off but if your only brother, the only person you’ve had a hand in raising, did absolutely nothing Hanzo could have found another way. Now, we don’t “know” if he could have, his had was already forced into killing his brother, who knows how tight the string around his neck was to begin with but I can only imagine that Genji had done something to deserve his death. Given that the elders in the clan called for his theoretical head, by his brother which is pretty fucked up even from a crime syndicate, they were outraged by the younger brother. Drinking and partying and doing drugs, whilst bad for the image of the clan it wouldn’t make them want to hire an assassin (let alone stick his own brother after him.) And even after Hanzo HAD killed his baby brother it tore him up inside and he couldn’t deal with his reality he’d been forced into. So he went haywire, started cutting down his own clan. Too little too late but it shows that he regrets it. Hanzo Shimada, the heir to the thrown of the Shimada-Gumi, the boy who grew up too fast and killed his own brother. The brother he morned for a decade. The brother he broke back into the clan, every year without fail, just to sit at the site of his death and light an offering. While it isn’t enough, never will be enough, he still tries to show his brother respect. The brother who followed him into the clan a decade after his alleged death and started a fight. A fight he won, just to prove to Hanzo that he could win. Had Hanzo known it was his alleged brother from the start he probably wouldn’t have fought back. Even without knowing his brothers identity, when a blade was held to his neck he told his attacker to kill him. Hanzo Shimada is a broken soul, Genji Shimada is only a broken body. Genji had a lighter lead, more frivolousness than Hanzo ever had and after his “death” he might’ve spent time being angry and relearning how to use his body. He moved on. He found peace and a family that didn’t want him cut down. Hanzo never left the shadow of the Shimada clan, all his life he’d might have never know what it’s like to have people who just care about him, not who he’s going to be or his rank or his name. Just Hanzo Shimada. Hanzo who is a product of the environment he was shaped in and had no choice in the matter. </p><p>Hanzo, arrogantly in game: I do not fear death!<br/>Genji, a little snide: No, you find living to be the challenge.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Brothers and a Cat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Short snippet with them bros.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Why is Haku balding?”</p><p>The question has Hanzo glaring at his brother from over his computer screen. “Don’t be foolish, cats don’t bald.” He keeps his critical gaze focused on Genji, watching as he picks up the bobtail without fuss and carries him over to Hanzo’s work desk. He rolls his eyes as the cat immediately springs from its Uncles arms and plants his body in front of the monitor.</p><p>Hanzo turns his attention to his brother with a raised eyebrow, who points at the cat in question he he lays across the desk. The pose all but displays the hanging fat pouch that is in fact, missing hair. Hanzo furrows his brows and gently scoops up Haku, who lets out a small ‘mrrp?’ as he’s man-handled into his owners lap and onto his back. The easygoing nature of Haku kicks in and he purrs at the attention.</p><p>Hanzo groans at the cat, the sight of its belly proving Genji’s statement. The missing white underfur leaves the pink skin underneath visible and Hanzo can’t help but run a hand over the soft skin. With a sigh he brings the cat against his chest, not minding the inevitable cat hair that’ll cling to his crisp button down.</p><p>He turns his dolly chair to face his brother, the smug grin adorning the youngers face has Hanzo grimacing.</p><p>“I know a vet, I’ll just leave his number in your phone, kay?” if the shit eating grin on Genjis face is anything to go by than he does not in fact want to contact whoever it is.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Injured McCree crashes the Bros Sleepover</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I genuinely don’t remember where this one was headed.. Injured McCree with a gun shot wound? the Bros are here as the chapter name says.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>🅱️eanut🅱️butter</p><p>“Hey Anija!” Genji calls from kitchen, “Were you expecting company?” </p><p>Genji peaks around the wall, no doubt keeping an eye on the popcorn for their late night movie marathon. </p><p>“No.. What time is it?” </p><p>Genji tucks back into the kitchen, Hanzo hears him open the microwave as he calls out, “2:56... Are you sure it isn’t Jesse? You can invite him in, I don’t mind if he joins! It’ll be like a sleep over! You know how father never let us have sleep o—“</p><p>“How long have they been out there?” Hanzo clenches the edge of his pajama shirt, running his fingers over the hem. </p><p>“The car might’ve been sitting there when I started making popcorn, the lights are dim so I didn’t really notice since you insisted on the black out curtains even in the kitchen.”</p><p>“I’ll go check, give me your gun.” </p><p>Genji stops dead in his tracks as he rounds the corner with two bowls of popcorn. He notices the look in his brothers eyes and nods, setting the bowls on the coffee table and swiftly walking into his room. </p><p>Hanzo meets him at the door way, his phones flashlight at the ready and he takes the gun from Genji with an open hand.</p><p>“Surely you won’t need to use it.”</p><p>Hanzo nods more to himself as he unlocks the deadbolt on their door before making his way into crisp night air. Genji watches from the doorway, his concern focusing on his brother rather than potentially being seen. </p><p>Hanzo reaches the passenger side of the vehicle without a hitch, finger on the safely of the gun at his side as he holds up his left hand to flash the light into the car. At first all he can make out is red, the body in the driver seat covered in blood. It only takes a second after that to register the scruffy face that is tipped downwards. </p><p>Hanzo lets out a few curses in Japanese and calls for Genji, tucking the gun into the back of his sweat pants as he runs to the drivers side and almost pulls the car door off trying to get it open. </p><p>The blood is still warm to the touch and Hanzo is torn between relief and uneasiness. The source appears to be a buck shot wound, tiny pellets peppered through the other mans torso. </p><p>“I texted Angie she should be here soon.” Genji appears over Hanzo’s shoulder, concern etching his features.</p><p>“Help me move him?” Hanzo glances behind him and Genji can see the subtle panic in his brothers features as he agrees. </p><p>Hanzo pulls McCrees feet out of the car first before turning the other man as much as possible before heaving him onto the driveway face up. McCree groans, hanzo watching as the other mans hands jerk up towards his chest. </p><p>“Jesse? Jesse relax. Look at me.” Hanzo cups the other mans jaw and runs his thumb over his cheek bone. Somewhere along the way the phone being used as a flashlight had been dropped face down but it illuminated enough light for Hanzo to watch McCree’s facial expressions shift as he registers his situation. </p><p>His eyebrows furrow as he squints in the darkness, the light from car illuminated Hanzos silhouette. He goes to ask a question but gets cut off by ragged coughs. McCree’s shaky hand managing to cover his mouth as Hanzo caresses his cheekbone. </p><p>The crunch of gravel under car tires alerts Hanzo is Angie’s arrival. They’re lucky enough that her office is just down the road, let alone that she prefers to do most of her paperwork at said office. Hanzo pulls away from the wounded man and foot steps approach. He watches as the doctor, still in her scrubs, crouches down next to him and starts cutting apart the tattered shirt. </p><p>He doesn’t register her talking to him until Genji puts a hand on shoulder. He snaps his gaze away from his bloodied lover to look at the tired doctor. </p><p>“I’m sorry— what did you..?”</p><p>“Can you hold his head?” </p><p>Hanzo nods and moves to sit next to the injured man before deciding that it would be better to lay McCree’s head in his lap.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Dragon Shifter Hanzo and Crypid Hunter McCree?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ok I think this was my first McHanzo story I started.. There was big plot ideas but basically McCree and Hanzo knew each other when they were younger and the “Elders” are mages and cursed him to forget and cursed hanzo to be a dragon most the time and of course u break the spell through the power of true love.. This one is also 3k..</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rumors about the abandoned Shimada Castle in Hanamura have floated around the cryptid community for decades and McCree was ready to punch whoever tried to argue about it. </p><p>The most common rumor that rued the Japanese area was that the grounds were haunted. It ranged from person to person, saying the the old Gumi workers never sought peace in the after life and wait day after day for their chance to get revenge on what was taken from them. </p><p>Some say it's a demonic spirit of the sorts, trying lure its prey into its trap.</p><p>Others say that theres a dragon that lies in the wreckage that remains of the main building. The cause of the fires that treacherous night. Some say it was one of the heirs that turned to rage at the family and caused the chaos. It is the most unpopular of the three. </p><p>McCree himself didn't believe any of the rumors, he's been hunting Cryipds since he can remember. Now well into his Twenties, coming up on 30 soon, he should get out of the business while he can, doesn't mean he will.</p><p>He met some folks on his most recent hunt in New Mexico, he'd been following leads about a ramped chupacabra in New Mexico. They didn't look of asian decent but he wasn't one to judge people's heritage. They through the thought around often enough that McCree had gotten curious after a particularly boring stake out and ended up digging up some information on the 'Haunted Shimada-Gumi Castle'. After little to no information in the haunting he decided he'd go scout it out himself after his current project. </p><p>Once he arrived at Hanamura he almost didn't believe he got the right city because of how casual everything was. It was a quaint suburban town, didn't take too much back tracking to finally get to the gates of the Shimada castle. There was a Ramen shop across the street and an arcade down the road, shops trickled up and down the streets. An ideal tourist attraction.</p><p>He walked over to the gate of the abandoned grounds of a once powerful gang and rustled  the gate which was, as expected, chained closed, no doubt to keep teens from doing exactly what he was going to do. He walked around a bit knowing he'd have to come back after daylight hours if he wanted to break in. He checked out the city a little more before he headed back to his hotel to check in and rest before nightfall.</p><p>After a short lived nap he spent about an hour going through everything he packed, deciding on what he'd bring to go investigate. Once the sun started to set he started getting ready to search for cryptids.</p><p>He decided on his normal outfit, cowboy boots with spurs, red serape and of course his beloved hat. Sure he stuck out like a sore thumb here but he wasn't going to leave his hat behind. He pocketed his favorite five inch knife, strapped to his thigh, his serape laying over it, keeping it away from prying eyes. After some debating he forwent Peacekeeper just in case he got caught, wouldn't want to get in more trouble for carrying a firearm in a different country. He made sure he grabbed his cash and his lock pick before he headed out towards the Ramen shop.</p><p>He wandered around the area for a few minutes, looking for authority and such before he decided he'd do a better job at lock picking if he had food in his stomach. He headed to the ramen shop to grab dinner, his jangly spurs announcing his arrival to the man behind the bar. </p><p>"Ah, a newcomer! What can I get you?" </p><p>"I'll take the daily, extra beef." </p><p>McCree sat in a chair a few away from the man in a cowl. Taking in the oddly perky man appearance he noticed there were faint scars  across the man face, his black hair was short and stuck around his forehead due to the cowl. </p><p>"What brings you to Hanamura cowboy?" The man asks setting the bowl before McCree. </p><p>"Thank ya kindly, and I'm 'ere on business." </p><p>He eats in silence for a bit before there's murmurs from the other side of the restaurant, teenagers who are staying out late as possible due to their curfew, whispering about the haunted castle in front of the restaurant. </p><p>"Ah, You've heard about the castle, no doubt?" </p><p>"Just some ol' tall tales, I reckon."</p><p>"Well they say a sorrowful dragon lives in the debris of the castle, some nights people say that you can hear its pitiful cries."</p><p>Sorrowful?</p><p>McCree nods, pushing a mushroom around the broth before asking for his bill. He pays and leaves, pondering what the shop keeper meant by 'sorrowful'.</p><p>Once he's out of ear shot the man at the bar crosses his arms, smirking to himself he thinks, "Perhaps the curse will be broken." </p><p>▿-▿-▿</p><p>He waited in an alleyway for a bit before he decided he'd go try his luck with the bolt on the door. As soon he grabbed it the deadbolt, ready to try his hand at the his, no doubt, rusty lock picking skills, when it fell open without complaint. He hesitated for a second wondering why someone left the lock undone before he decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and headed inside the dark castle grounds.</p><p>Once inside he took a moment to look around. Across from him was a cracked bell that was embellished with decorative patterns, the largest one being the two dragons chasing each other's tail, the crack almost straight down the middle. </p><p>(If you asked McCree they were sucking each other off) </p><p>He made his way through the gravel and towards the second archway, mindful of the rocks, before stopped under the archway to gaze at the blooming cherry blossoms under the moonlight. He noticed the castle behind the courtyard, the roof looked collapsed and there were broken pillars around it. Off to the right was a broken staircase that looks like it once led to upper level access. After a few minutes of taking in the sight he heard a clatter and rumble of debris shifting followed by some growling noises that immediately spiked his interest. </p><p>He unsheathed his knife and started to make his way through the court yard, cherry blossoms getting caught on the brim of his hat no doubt. The main entrance to the building was collapsed, not that it wasn't expected, but it took a bit to finally make it towards the center of the room. Upon entering, besides the large pile of debris in the front of the room the center of the house held fast. Dead center was what looked like a sword stand, minus the sword, perhaps stolen? McCree pondered. It sat in front of a banner with Japanese kanji scribed in black. He was never found of kanji so the meaning was lost to him. The bottom left corner of the scroll torn (Sliced?) with blood splattered close to it. </p><p>McCree was transfixed by the history it held before there was more shifting from the back of the room, after pulling himself up onto the little platform, the stairs lay broken in a pile together. He stands there looking down the hallways that probably once led off the bedrooms in the back of the house, how people more than likely walked across these floors daily but now the building was nothing if not abandoned. McCree turns towards the sound, clenching his knife as he approached what he thought to be the source of the mess. </p><p>He stopped dead in his tracks when he made eye contact with the god damn dragon  under a pile of debris to the right. At first glance it looks black but with the moonlight shinning through of the some broken planks in the rafters McCree could see the deep blue undertones in the scales.</p><p>He wonders what the dragon looks like in the sunlight.</p><p>Piercing golden eyes stared him down as if its powerful jaw wouldn't kill him alone. Under its eyes are golden scales that match its whiskers and beard, the trail of scales run underneath its deer like ears. It's golden mane starting on the top of its head rapping underneath it's jaw, between it's ears and follows its spine down its back and under the fallen ceiling.</p><p>The growl started as a low rumble, something McCree could feel more than hear, before it built in volume, the dragons lips pulling back revealing it's teeth and gums to McCree. He took a few steps back, now noticing just how tiny his knife was in comparison the the beasts teeth in. Further away he notices now that the dragon lays in what must've been stairs at one point and time, now a barley recognizable doorway filled with dragon and broken wood planks. </p><p>The dragon didn't stop growling however, if anything it started snarling at him, getting more aggressive as the seconds ticked on. </p><p>"Easy there.. dragon.. I ain't 'ere to hurt ya.. I don't even know if ya can understand my garbling but look, I can help ya, ya got yerself all crammed up that hallway like a can o' sardines.. I saw a pathway when I was comin in so I'll see I can myself over there an  help ya." </p><p>He stared at the dragon for a long moment, the sounds dying in its throat although it kept its teeth on display as McCree nods as he walks away. </p><p>When he got to doorway of the Castle he pulled off his hat and leaned against the frame hapharzarly. Wiping his brow with the hand that wasn't holding his hat he lets out a sigh, thinking about what he's about to get himself into. After a few minutes of ignoring the twitch in his fingers, the craving for a cigar, he pushes off the wall and heads over to the collapsed staircase. He pays no minds to the crumpled gazebo as he passes not noting the bridge towards the archway is in the same state as the ignored gazebo. </p><p>As he gets closer to the stairs he sighs questioning how he's going to maneuver his way up there, placing his hat back on his head and palming his cigar stash. To his surprise the stairs are fixed, brand new, as if they hadn't gone through a dragons fury and weathering throughout the years. </p><p>He tentatively pressed his foot on the bottom stair, waiting for it give under his weight. After a few moments without any sign that the stair will break he repeated the process for the rest of the flight. </p><p>The balcony looked worse for wear, the ceiling was caved in some spots, the bridge had collapsed a while ago leaving a gap further down. The stone area that leads to the upper leads of the building was decorated in chips and cracks, moss and other plants finding residences within the nooks. </p><p>Making his way towards the doorway he noticed shurikens lying on the floor, he stops for a second and just gazes at them. </p><p>Perhaps they were forgotten with the rubble that lays here, the owner never to see them again. </p><p>He moves on, the door way has somewhat collapsed on itself, the outside beam crumpled and leaning against its twin. McCree grabbed at the upper portion of the post and pushes it away from the other one as carefully as he can before he slips under, resting it in its former position. </p><p>When he turns around he comes face to face a small green dragon. He doesn't squeak. He does however back up a step because he almost stepped on the tiny thing. They hold eye contract with each other, McCree noting that this dragon is misty, opaque in some way. </p><p>After a bit the small creature chirps up at him and starts the climb him, McCree is baffled by the sight and let's it be, fearing the safety of his fingers and it's connection the the large angry dragon a few feet over. Once it decides that it's satisfied with its perch on McCree's serape it holds out a roll of paper for him. </p><p>"Fer me?" He asks pointing at the small scroll. The dragon huffs and nods, stretching its small arms out more. McCree takes the offered scroll and tips his hat at the small dragon before unraveling the paper.</p><p>「If this paper reaches you, Jesse McCree, then my familiar did it's job. (Good job Ramen, give him a head rub) It's hard to understand but trek lightly cowboy. Things have changed greatly since you left and I fear you might shatter him. Stop by the noodle shop and we can talk more   ~ 雀」</p><p>He blinks owlishly at the page before rereading it a few more times. He has multiple questions for this.. Sparrow? (The penmen ship wasn't the best) </p><p>He snaps out of his contemplations when the dragon on his shoulder makes himself know again by burrowing into his neck with a quiet chirp. He chuckles, not out of amusement at the dragon but his overall situation. </p><p>"Come on feller, Ramen was it? Les getcha down from there an you scurry back to her owner and I can get back to uh.. Helpin the other dragon." </p><p>Ramen protested, claws coiling into the red fabric causing McCree to curse. He pocketed the paper for future reference and used both hands to untwine the dragon from his serape. He places it on the floor, crouching down to his level as he does and gives him "head rubs". Ramen perked up and chirped at McCree before he scurries off and out the doorway. </p><p>McCree gets to his feet with only a protest from his knees, heading up the mostly unscathed staircase that leads to the balcony of the main room. From behind he can see just how much is collapsed on the dragon, it's tail laying motionless over the floor. He clears his throat before he starts talking to the creature.</p><p>"Ho-Howdy pardner, I'm goin tah start messing with the debris around ya, 'lright? Don' start swingin at me."</p><p>The debris shifts around the dragon indicating the sigh McCree couldn't hear, and it's tail swishes in the opposite direction from McCree. </p><p>After a bit of fumbling with broken beams McCree manages to clear off the dragon a bit, a pile of broken wood growing on the top floor. As he reaches for another beam he notices that the scales towards the base of the dragons tale were flaking off, leaving red blotches of blood in their wake. </p><p>Without thinking he reaches down and wraps his hands around the dragons tail, mind full of the gashes. {The dragon jumps at the sudden touch near his flank, tossing his tail side to side to show his irritation.} </p><p>༄</p><p>Young Jesse McCree stands in front of the leader of the Shimada Gumi, his heir to the throne (Hanzo was it?) standing to his right. To Jesse's left is Gabriel Reyes, an infamous mage in the US, one of the few that study the dark arcane magics. </p><p>"So it's a deal then?"</p><p>Gabriel pauses for a moment, looking between Sojiro and Jesse before he sighs, placing his hand on Jesses shoulder. </p><p>"Take care of the damn kid." </p><p>And just like that he disappeared, using a teleportation magic to be more dramatic. Jesse waited, staring up at the Leader of the Clan who was focused on his own son. </p><p>"May I be excused Father? Genji wished to see me before sparring." </p><p>Sojiro thinks for a moment before lighting up with a smile. </p><p>"You may but bring McCree along, introduce him to Genji and show him around the grounds. He'll be staying here for a bit, studying under my guidance."</p><p>Hanzo nodded and turned to Jesse asking if he was ready before they set out to the dojo.</p><p>༄</p><p>When Jesse came too he was leaning against a wall. He wasn't concerned about which wall because there was a very persistent male in front of him.</p><p>"..Cree? Can you hear me? Focus on-"<br/>
"Ah.. Yer uh.."</p><p>The man raises his eyebrow. Who was he? He's seen him before but.. from where? Suddenly he remembers what he was doing before he was leaning against the wall, he stands abruptly barley missing the strangers jaw with his head as he does so. The stranger grabs his upper arms to keep him steady once he starts to sway. </p><p>"Why 'm I so dizzy?" McCree asks as he lays his head against the strangers shoulder. He closes his eyes and takes deep breaths, trying to remember what exactly he saw. After what felt like hours but was mer moments the stranger pulls McCree away from his shoulder.</p><p>"Do you remember your name?"<br/>
"McCree.. Jess McCree. What's yer name sugar?"<br/>
"My name is not of importance. Do you remember what you were doing before you blacked out?"<br/>
"I was.. err.. Oh. I was removin the debris from the stairs because there was a dragon. Oh god did you hurt the dragon, did the dragon hurtcha? Where is tha dragon? Where 'm I?"<br/>
"Relax McCree, Everything is fine." </p><p>The smaller man cups McCrees jaw in his hand before smiling up at him. </p><p>"Please do not return again." He says lowly before placing his index and middle finger oh his right hand on his forehead, resting his pinky and thumb on his eyes. McCrees brows only get a split second to look confused as he watches the blue trail up the other mans arm and into his palm before the world went black.</p>
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